As the morning sun filtered through the dust-laden air, I stood in my living room, surveying the chaos that had been my home. Emily, Rick, and their parents were still in high spirits, unaware of the storm that was about to break over their heads.
The city inspector arrived first. A no-nonsense man in a crisp uniform, he walked through my house with a critical eye. The moment he saw the state of my bathroom and kitchen, his eyebrows shot up in disapproval. “This is a mess,” he said, jotting notes on his clipboard. “And you say you didn’t authorize this work?”
“No,” I replied, handing him the documentation I’d meticulously prepared. “I was out of town for work. This is all unauthorized. There aren’t even any permits filed for this.”
